


Paul's Surprise Visit

by jenilynn998200



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenilynn998200/pseuds/jenilynn998200
Summary: Paul McGann is sexy and this is the dream I had about him





	

“Please, Jennifer” he said, staring into my eyes as though he meant it. I could almost believe anything, as long as I was looking into those eyes, those deep pools of blue, bluer than any color had a right to be. I lost myself for a moment, still feeling the sound of his voice reverberate through my mind, this large hands holding mine with such softness, his eyes blazing with passion. 

I don’t know how she did it, but my best friend managed to get my celebrity crush to make an appearance at my wedding shower. He happened to be nearby for a local Comic-Con she said. All it took was a mention of how big a fan I was. He smiled, and she gave him an invitation, never expecting him to show up. Why would he, for this little nobody? And yet, a knock on the door, followed by a voice I knew only so well. Saying my name. My name in that voice. I don’t know how I managed to stand up, I couldn’t even speak.   
He took my hand, and pressed his lips to it. “I envy the man who holds this fair hand tomorrow” he murmured.   
Ah, I understand. He’s playing a part, as actors do. Flattering the frumpy bride to be. All in good fun, I guess. I breathe easier now, we’re all just pretending. Playing along, I bow down to him, my eyes never leaving his, eyes I never dreamed I would see up close.   
Still holding my hand, he pulls me close, asks if I would like to dance. Still unable to speak, I nod. Losing my breath as his arm tightens around me. Losing all sense of anything except the feel of him against me, moving together to the radio in the background. My friends, my mother, all lost in the ether, all I could see was him. 

What was I doing? This man is old enough to be my father! This man, who looked no older than me, Putting on a show. Yes. Just putting on a show, earning his check, whatever she gave him to come. This wasn’t about me. Of course not. Not him, and certainly not with me. What was I thinking?

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “I know what you’re thinking, Jennifer, do you mind if I call you Jennifer? Jenny is a child’s name, and you, my dear, are a woman. But I can see what has crossed your mind and I can assure you, I took no payment to come here. I merely took a chance to meet a fan. A fan who, as it turns out, had been messaging me online for some time now.” 

He smirked, winked a flawless blue eye at me, and spoke to the onlookers. “I’m afraid I’ve made the poor girl speechless. Ah, well. I believe it is time for our dinner date.”

“D…. Dinner Date?” I finally found my voice. 

“Yes, my dear, a date. My car is just out front.” And with a wave and a smile, we were out the door and into the back of his car. 

It was all such a whirlwind, all I could feel was his hand still on mine. 

We rode together, my eyes locked onto him the entire time. I felt as if in a dream, staring at a man who I had only seen on my laptop until now. I had sent a few fan emails, never really thinking he’d read them. Who reads EVERY fan letter? Some were a little embarrassing, such as telling him that his voice felt in my ears like silk on naked skin. Silly things, like average fangirls do. Not just a fangirl. I’m about to get married! What am I doing? Riding in a strange car to God knows where with…him. Not too much concern about him being recognized in this area. So at worst, he’d be recognized by the random supernerd, at best, a woman having dinner with a man. He looks so young, much younger than his fifty four years. 

He took me to a familiar place, Mario’s, and we took a small table in the corner, my hand still in his. 

My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. My best friend asking what was going on, all excitement and curiosity. He pulled his chair over next to mine and we snapped a picture to send to her.   
He stayed next to me, his arm still resting on the back on my chair, hand still on my shoulder. I couldn’t breathe. What was happening? What? Everything was spinning.   
His face came closer to mine, lips soft on my cheek. Words whispered, how he read every email. Everything that I had written online, how my words touched him. 

What?

I think it was at this point that I actually fainted. I woke up in the car again, laying on the seat with him kneeling over me. He had carried me out. He had laid me here, and watched over me. Why? Why would he be here, with me? 

“I know what you think of yourself, Jennifer. I have read your journals, your messages. I could not let this opportunity go without seeing you in person and showing you how beautiful you really are. Your heart and soul shine through your words, they glow within you as a beautiful beacon, drawing me to you.”

His hand in mine. Other hand, brushing hair from my face. His hand in mine, other hand stroking my cheek. His hand in mine, his eyes looking into mine. His hand in mine. Then his lips, soft, warm, questioning, on mine. 

“Please, Jennifer. Let me show you how beautiful you are”

He talked to his driver. I sent a text to my friends and fiancée. I would explain later. 

His hand in mine, we raced to the hotel. 

I was no longer a simple fan with a crush. I was a strong, sexy woman, sensual and seductive. We sat by the fireplace, barely touching, champagne in hand. I sang him songs that I had written, he read me poems that he loved. Words, all just words. 

The fire died down, his arm around me, his hand in mine. My hand in his, his hand tangled in my hair as he pulled me to him, laying us both on the floor. He whispered softly to me as our clothes melted away, running his hands over my curves, my nails tracing lightly down his back, digging in as he pushed himself into me, looking into my eyes while moving slowly against me. 

We fell asleep on the carpet, bonded together, bodies pressed as one. Sometime during the night, we awoke and moved to the bed where he held me and we talked for what seemed like hours before allowing our bodies to take over in a tidal wave of lust as we made love again. 

I woke up by myself in the hotel room with a note. 

~ Dear Jennifer,  
I know that last night can never happen again, and I couldn’t bear to see you go this morning. Your fiancée is the luckiest man alive, and until the day I die, will always have my envy. You will always have a part of me with you, dearest Jennifer. 

Love, Paul


End file.
